


Infatuation

by retikrit



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Hubert/Ferdinand, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retikrit/pseuds/retikrit
Summary: Sylvain accidentally drinks a love potion, makes Hubert fall in love with him, has fun with it.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> dubcon tag is here because of the love potion
> 
> enjoy :D

Claude realizes, a second too late, what vial exactly Sylvain is enthusiastically chugging. The warning comes too late, but for what it’s worth, Claude _tried_. “Wait not this one –”

When all is done and cannot be reversed, he turns to give Claude a curious look. “What?”

Claude scratches his neck, not very eager to give Sylvain the details he definitely owes him. “This one’s huh, this one’s a failed love potion.”

Sylvain smiles at him, holding up the empty vial. “Oh yeah, there’s a little heart on it. Why do you think I drank it?”

And well, Claude should have guessed it. Sylvain would go for the deadliest of his concoctions without even meaning to, following instinct alone. He thinks about forbidding the access to his bedroom to Sylvain.

“Failed in which way,” Sylvain asks lightly before claiming what’s left of space on Claude’s bed. He’s careful not to touch the open books there, something Claude is always grateful for. Now, he wishes the conversation would take another turn, to spare him the explanation. Sylvain must find his awkwardness unusual, his gaze turns serious. “Claude. Failed in which way.”

Claude shrugs, feigning nonchalance, still hoping to turn the tables of the upcoming conversation. “It’s actually pretty funny. So, you know about that Hubert guy, right?”

Sylvain stands up just as quickly as he sat down, hand on his face. “Oh god.”

Claude smirks, even though Sylvain can’t really see it. “He needed… help. He was very convincing. I helped.” Meaning, he gave Claude information he definitely wouldn’t have gotten otherwise, and that is enough for Claude to fill his part of the deal.

Meanwhile Sylvain stares in morbid curiosity at the vial. “That… idiot needed a love potion? Why? Most importantly, failed in which way?”

“That’s, well, you see a love potion is usually meant to subjugate someone to feelings of love for a predetermined person. That’s Hubert. But this version… well, he didn’t tell me, didn’t have to really, but it simply enhanced his affection for the drinker.”

Sylvain frowns, looking at Claude like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “That’s very weird.”

Claude did not expect this kind of reaction, but humors Sylvain anyway. “Not that much. I read the recipe wrong, found it in the Abyss so some parts actually were –”

Sylvain shakes his head. “I mean, Hubert? Shadow man Hubert? Has a crush?”

Eh. Claude lies back on his bed. “Can’t share more, confidentiality rules.” He smirks, and whispers, “Black eagle redhead.”

Sylvain conceals not so well his laugh, waiting for Claude to say it was just a joke, giggles harder when he doesn’t. He steadies his breath, and with his best impression of the noble, announces, “I am Ferdinand von Aegir!”

Claude is laughing too, for long minutes. He had to hold onto that information for too long – sharing it with someone is much fun. He tries not to think about what Hubert would do if he knew. And well, they have a much more pressing matter in their hands.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Claude manages to say when the laughter dies down, “I think Hubert’s going to _fancy_ you for a week or two.”

“I can’t believe you made me drink gets-Hubert-hot-and-bothered-juice.”

There’s more laughter, mostly on Claude’s part. Of all the vials he could have picked up – this one is probably not the most harmful, but definitely one of the worst. If Sylvain finds humor in it, Claude is happy for him, because that is certainly not a condition he wishes to find himself in. At least, not without other schemes in mind. “Yeah well, enjoy.”

And that is how it begins.

* * *

It’s all fun and games until Hubert glares at him from across the dining hall, more deadly and precise than a miasma. Sylvain has to remind himself that Hubert has no murderous intent, supposedly, and simply has a big emotional boner for him at the moment that he’ll soon forget about.

He thinks Hubert will come meet him – yet he doesn’t, and the rest of the day is pretty uneventful.

Curiosity pushes him to see if he can find Hubert, but he disappears easily and Sylvain can’t be bothered looking for him too long.

The next day however, Byleth assigns them both to go to town find someone who’s got a package for him, and remains awfully vague about the content of it. Sylvain doesn’t mind playing delivery guy, but it seems to bother Hubert much more than the situation warrants it. The murderous glare hasn’t stopped, and Sylvain is starting to doubt Claude was saying the truth.

Sylvain knows Hubert well enough to make pleasant small talk during the walk, despite Hubert’s sour mood. He’s less cutting in his remarks, and is overly quiet. If that’s what love allegedly does to this man, Sylvain honestly pities the poor soul who’ll marry him.

Finding the person Byleth described is easy enough – and Sylvain is quick to make conversation with them, maybe flirt a little. He can’t be blamed for letting his guard down. All it takes is one second for the person to bring their knife to Sylvain’s throat, and another for Hubert to plant his own in their assailant’s hand. They recoil, giving Sylvain enough space to move out of their range.

Hubert’s dark magic electrifies the air, menacingly. “Who sent you.”

They seem frozen on the spot, now unable to pull any cheap trick. “It’s – it doesn’t matter. The ashen demon knows what he owes us.”

Hubert grimaces, and a quick death spell sends them to Ailell. Sylvain gapes at the needless display of power. “Hubert! Weren’t we supposed to, I don’t know, capture them alive or something?”

“You,” Hubert accuses instead of answering, “should have been prepared for this situation. Your lack of training put your life in danger.”

Sylvain sighs. “Do you suddenly care about my lifespan? You just sound like every other person in my life now, I miss the death threats.”

There is no package to be found, obviously, and the walk back to the monastery is even more awkward. Hubert, against all odds, is _grumpy_ , and Sylvain is plagued with thoughts of Hubert putting himself between him and death itself. Like he’d do for his lady. Like, apparently, he’d do for someone he’s unknowingly cursed to love.

That’s a little hot, Sylvain unfortunately thinks.

* * *

Sylvain is on cleaning duty when Hubert visits the library. Books are scattered on the floor, out of order, for as long as it takes to dust the shelves. Hubert has no choice but ask Sylvain for help to find a specific strategy book, and Sylvain happily obliges. He finds quickly enough what Hubert is looking for and hands him the book.

Now, their fingers touch, and the moment is ridiculously long. Hubert doesn’t move, stares at Sylvain in thinly veiled wonder.

Sylvain knows about love at first sight, that second two people look at each other and have this unspoken agreement of mutual attraction, he’s experienced it many times and will continue to. He knows what’s happening here is different – he’s seen Hubert before. He knows what the guy looks like, and knows that he’s _definitely_ not his type.

That gaze, stubbornly fixed on his face, it’s something closer to love at second sight.

Hubert withdraws first – clenches the book harder, blinks rapidly and probably more than Sylvain has ever seen him doing. “My apologies,” He says in a low, apologetic tone.

Oh fuck, Sylvain thinks. That was extremely hot.

* * *

Sylvain does not mean to laugh, not really, but how could he not when Hubert holds a lance like ignorant kids usually do? It’s probably a Faerghus thing, to know how to fight with a lance before knowing how to read, but that makes it all funnier in Sylvain’s eyes.

Hubert doesn’t like laughing, even less being laughed at. “Gautier.”

Sylvain is polite enough to stop, but the mocking smile never truly leaves. “Okay, let’s start. You might wanna let me show you first.”

He picks up his own lance, and that is the start of Hubert’s long training in the art of knighthood. He’s a good student, where Sylvain isn’t a good teacher. They make it work. Sylvain sweats a lot, seriously trying his best to lead Hubert to perfection.

That much surprises Hubert. “I had thought it would take much more convincing to get you to train,” he admits, mid session.

“Hey, I like training! You should see me in battle.”

Hubert is equally as sweaty, but manages to look composed anyway. “I’ve seen you.” He doesn’t elaborate.

Before they know it, an hour has passed and they’re both exhausted, leaning against the wall. Hubert isn’t good, not nearly as much as he has the potential to be, but there’s progress. Sylvain feels satisfied. “Hey, wanna head to the showers with me? I need to clean up a bit before I go to town, and you stink too.”

The odd silence that follows prompts him to look at Hubert, and the quizzical look on his face. Sylvain opens his mouth to question him, but Hubert is faster. “Are you going to engage in debauched activities?”

Sylvain smiles crookedly at Hubert, curious even now. “Yeah. Don’t you think I deserve it, after such hard work?”

He searches for the crack in Hubert’s poker face, but doesn’t find it. Whatever he’s thinking, he’s making sure Sylvain can’t guess it. “Such a strange choice of word,” he points out calmly. Sylvain frowns. “‘Deserve’. Does it bring you any joy at all, to sleep with a different person every time?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain confirms nervously. “Of course.”

Hubert, who has been skillfully avoiding any eye contact, finally meets Sylvain halfway with a critical look. “I am glad to hear you think so. Still, I… hope you do not lose yourself and forget the true worth of your company.”

Sylvain’s throat is little dry, probably from the training. He convinces himself he’s not touched by Hubert’s words – he is not, because Hubert doesn’t know him that well. Still, he stutters his next question. “And… What’s that? What’s my company worth?” He hopes it comes out playful, but is in reality tinged with nervousness.

But Hubert doesn’t end his torment, and keeps whatever he had been thinking to himself. He smiles crookedly at him too, as if arguing Sylvain already knows the answer.

They agree to a game of chess, to clear their heads after showering.

* * *

The potion will soon begin to wear off, Sylvain is well aware of that. Everything will get back to normal and there will be no Hubert watching out for his life, no murderous glare waiting for him in every corner. It’ll come to an end, and it is extremely tempting to take advantage of it while it lasts. Maybe not Sylvain’s most ethical move, but he’s never claimed to be a good person.

So maybe he shows off all the naked skin he can before bordering indecency, and maybe he teases Hubert during their lance training together. He doesn’t really see the harm in that, when Hubert so clearly enjoys himself too.

It’s not exactly part of the plan to spend more time with Hubert, it just happens naturally. Some boundaries are crossed that shouldn’t have been – Sylvain even gets to see the inside of Hubert’s bedroom – but it becomes increasingly difficult to guess when the potion’s responsible or not. It becomes increasingly difficult to guess how emotionally invested Sylvain truly is.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have looked at Hubert so lewdly, perhaps he should have gone even further, but it does not matter. Hubert, artificially in love Hubert, must think he has a shot with the guy of his dreams, and one night gets bold enough to bring Sylvain to his room and feed him wine.

They both know why they’re here – Sylvain’s dick especially – and Hubert’s shyness from the first days has vanished. He tells Sylvain about his worth, in detail, tells him nobody _deserves_ anything, and that if Sylvain sees something better he should just take it for himself.

Sylvain, despite his better judgment, kisses the idiot, and takes everything. Hubert invites him in, and takes from Sylvain too, lets his desires comes alive. It’s a recipe for disaster, but Sylvain loves chaos, and for now they’re happy.

That was the hottest night of his life.

* * *

Hubert isn’t good at serious relationships, even less at casual, Sylvain notes. He doesn’t know what to say or do, when morning comes. Maybe he regrets it, he most likely does. Sylvain doesn’t feel that sort of hollowness anymore, he’s used to it. He isn’t even surprised Hubert comes to find him in the afternoon, making him promise not to tell anyone, afraid of rumors and reputation.

Claude doesn’t believe him when he tells him about it. Sylvain argues Hubert’s not so bad actually, and pretty good in bed. Claude thinks the potion has failed in more than one way. Sylvain prefers that explanation over the truth.

He thinks that’s the end of it when Hubert pushes him against a bookshelf, and kisses him with the same passion he did the night before, if not more desperate. Sylvain expects some dirty talk, but all Hubert whispers in his ear is, “I’ll see you around.”

Sylvain does not mean to get his hopes up, but he does.

* * *

Hubert falling out of love for him doesn’t hurt, not at all, and if Sylvain repeats that to himself enough times it might make it true. Small chance, he takes it anyway. It’s always more bearable than those awkward interactions he’s stuck with, the obvious regret in Hubert’s eyes for getting involved in something he shouldn’t have.

Sylvain takes all the blame. If Hubert one day finds out the truth about what happened, Sylvain won’t deny it and apologize accordingly, but now he’s happy saying nothing and letting Hubert deal with the aftermath of falling in love with him. Sylvain wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but he believes Hubert will be able to move on.

After all, Hubert already has a crush, and Sylvain’s only way to inspire genuine love is through love potions.


End file.
